"There he was, forty-five years old and at least a millionaire, and he couldn’t even float..."

"At the age of forty-five, Enderby. What I mean is, what are you looking forward to now? Eh?"

"I didn’t attach much importance to my superior years. I was forty-five, and she, poor thing, was only just rising twenty-two..."

"A fine mess you’ve made of your life Joseph Harland. Forty-five and no friends and not a cent to bless yourself with..."

"I knew what I looked like already. A fat man of forty-five, in a grey herringbone suit a bit the worse for the wear and a bowler hat. Wife, two kids and a house in the suburbs written all over me."